Making a choice
by jezzi85
Summary: This story is set at the end of book 7. The war on the grounds of Hogwarts rages on, while Draco finally makes a choice.


Title: (One-Shot)

Title: Making a choice (One-Shot)

Author: jezzi85

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plotbunnies. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I just borrow them and I certainly don't get any money for this…

Genre: Angst, Drama

Pairing: hinted Harry/Draco

Rating: PG-13

Summery: This story is set at the end of book 7. The war on the grounds of Hogwarts rages on, while Draco finally makes a choice.

Warnings: mentions of violence, Pre-Slash

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Making a choice – by jezzi85

Draco didn't know where to go. All around him people were running, screaming, searching and crying out for their loved ones. It was pure chaos. Someone bumped into him and he caught a glimpse of red hair. He assumed it must be a Weasley, but the man didn't falter and just continued his way on to the Great Hall, where everyone seemed to gather for the second time that night.

The Dark Lord's last massage was still ringing in his ears. He wondered where Potter was and if the git would really go to sacrifice himself to save the rest of the people who were still in the castle. He thought of how Potter had saved his life only half an hour ago, how he had pulled him up on that broom, flush against his body… He had felt save and protected for that short moment, a feeling he had never experienced like this, especially not in the last two years.

It was still hard to believe that he was here, in midst of a war, fighting against people who had been his schoolmates and teachers. Despite the fact that he hadn't even liked half of them during his school time, he couldn't bring himself to raise his wand against any of them. It felt _wrong_. Just like it had when he had threatened his headmaster last year on top of the astronomy tower.

Merlin, he wished he could turn back the time and bring himself to lower his wand earlier… to accept Dumbledore's help and protection and go in hiding with his family. Maybe it would make him a coward, but at least he wouldn't be here right now. He wouldn't be shaking like leaf, trying to come up with an idea as to what to do next. He wouldn't be thinking of his parents, who were with the Dark Lord and still in danger of being killed. Or maybe they had already been.

That thought spurred him into action. He took of running, just like the others. He still didn't really know where he should be going, but he needed to find them, needed to make sure that they were alright. He followed the few people who were still in the corridors to the Great Hall.

The sight that greeted him there was horrible.

First he noticed Madam Pomfrey, who was as quickly as possible attending to the many injured ones. Then he noticed several Professors walking around, trying to help and console the people who had already lost someone and were now crying in sorrow, grief and despair. And then he noticed the line of the dead bodies.

The blood seemed to freeze in his veins. There were at least thirty bodies. Students, teachers, members of the Order of the Phoenix. It didn't really matter. Not to him. Not anymore. They were people. People who once had families, friends, dreams and a future… and all was lost now. And as he stood there and let his eyes roam up and down the line of the dead, he became aware of the tears streaming down his face.

His gaze fell upon the dead body of Lupin. His heart clenched painfully as the unbidden image of Potter once more crossed his mind. He knew that Lupin had been the only father figure Potter had left, after Black's death. Had he seen him already? Did he know that Lupin was dead?

Just as that thought had entered his mind he became aware of someone entering the Great Hall beside him. His breath caught in his throat when he realized that it was Potter. He unconsciously backed away a few steps. And stopped when he saw desperation and raw pain mist over the eyes of his rival, as he, too, took in the sight of Lupin.

Potter shook his head a few times as if that motion could somehow make it less true. And then he turned around and their eyes locked. Draco knew that he had wanted to flee the hall just a second ago, but the sudden eye contact seemed to have paralysed them both. For they could see their own grief and fear reflected in the eyes of each other.

And suddenly Draco knew the real reason why Potter had saved his life. He had thought it was simply due to his hero complex and his Gryffindor tendencies. But now he knew that Potter had saved him because of one very simple reason: because Potter understood.

In the few seconds, in which they held each others gaze, Draco could see the understanding in those brilliant green eyes, the compassion and the sorrow. Potter knew how it was to lose his parents. He knew how it was to fear for your life and the lives of the ones you love every day. And most importantly, Draco could see that Potter didn't blame him for making the choices he had made.

Their little moment was interrupted, when he heard a voice screech, "Harry Potter! There's Potter!"

They broke eye contact and turned their gaze on a woman sitting on the floor, whose face was tear streaked and full of utter sadness… and fury. She was holding a boy in her arms and Draco could tell from the colour of his robes that he had been a Ravenclaw. The woman pointed with her finger at Potter, who was still frozen to the spot.

"Someone grab him already!" the woman screamed again, effectively drawing the attention of the others on her. "Let's put an end to this madness! We should deliver him to the Dark Lord! He can't win – he isn't even trying – he let's us fight and die for him!"

Draco could see Potter flinching and suddenly he was overcome with rage. How dare that woman make such accusations! Before he knew what he was doing, he had stepped forward and was glaring down at her. "And then what?" he asked in a deadly voice. "Do you mean to follow _him_ now, do you?!"

"And why the hell not?!" the woman exclaimed, clearly not in the right state of her mind, after her son's death. "That boy only brings death upon the people who follow him! If I would have followed the Dark Lord my son wouldn't be dead now!"

Whispers rose from the corners of the hall and he could see McGonagall making her way through the crowd, surely to try and sooth the grieving woman. Draco, however, was looking at her in bitterness. "Do you really believe that?" he asked, his voice now barely above a whisper. "Let me tell you something then. I've joined the Death Eaters almost two years ago." At this point he drew back his sleeve and showed her the Dark Mark which would be forever branded into the back of his arm. She recoiled in disgust and fear. "I've joined them because I've made the same reasoning you've just made. My family was threatened to be tortured and killed and I would have done everything in my power to stop that from happening. But you know what? It was the Dark Lord himself who wanted to bring death upon my parents. He wanted them punished, his own followers. And in order to achieve that he gave me a mission he knew I could never succeed in. He excepted me to die trying." He took a deep breath to control his emotions, before he spoke again. "So is this the man you want to follow now?"

She was trembling heavily and tears were once again flowing down her cheeks. McGonagall had reached her now and had crouched down beside her. Before she could say something though, the grieving woman breathed agonised, "But… my son. Dead… he's dead because he followed that Potter boy…"

Draco shook his head. "No, he's dead, because he wanted to fight. For you, for his family and peace. He's made a choice." At this point he turned around to look once again into the emerald eyes of Harry Potter, who was looking back in something akin to wonder. "And now I'm making mine."

--

An hour later he was back in the Great Hall. Grief was still heavy in the air, but this time mixed with joy and happiness at the defeat of the Dark Lord. Around him families were re-united, hugging and crying in relief of finding each other alive. Others were sitting beside their lost ones, pride and sorrow equally etched on their faces at the thought of the reason these brave people had given their lives for.

Draco was making his way through the crowd, desperately trying to find his own parents. He hadn't seen them anywhere during the last battle and fear gripped his heart. _Please, don't let them be dead,_ he pleaded inwardly. He wouldn't be able to bear it. After all that they'd been though in the last two years… he refused to believe that everything should be in vain.

He reached the entrance door once again, after crossing the whole hall for the second time already, and was about to sink into himself in defeat and despair, when he finally caught sight of his parents. They were entering the Great Hall very slowly, probably due to the fact that his mother had to help his father to stay on his feet. Draco could make out blood on his black robe and he prayed to all gods that it wasn't too serious.

He broke out into a little run and saw his mother's eyes widen and fill up with tears when she saw him. His father looked up when he noticed that something was going on and a relieved smile spread on his face, which had previously been scrunched up in pain. He hesitated when he stood before them, wanting to hug them, to prove it to himself that they were really there, alive, but yet unsure if he wouldn't hurt his father even more.

His mother made that choice for him by tugging him forward into their arms. As the warmth and love of their embrace consumed him, he gave in to his own tears once again. When they finally parted, Draco helped his mother stir his father to one of the benches, near Madam Pomfrey, who was still attending to the injuries of the people who had survived.

He saw that his father was looking around apprehensively, obviously doubting to get help from anyone in here. For a moment Draco asked himself the same thing, but then his eyes took in the sight of Potter, who was just a few metres across the hall with his two sidekicks Granger and Weasley. They were talking to a crying younger boy in red Gryffindor robes. Draco thought it must be one of the Creevey boys. He watched how Granger soothed back the hair from the boy's forehead and then leaned in to hug him tight. Potter straightened up then and let his eyes wander around the hall. When they met his own, Draco held his breath.

There was so much that had happened between them tonight. So much, that had changed. At least for him. He knew with clarity that he would never be able view Potter in the same way he had in the years they had been in school together. His way of thinking had been childish and petty back then. But the war had forced him to grow up quickly in the past year. The moment he had left Hogwarts with Snape at the end of his sixth year, he had known that everything would be different and it had frightened him endlessly. And if he was honest with himself, it still did.

As he watched how Potter now slowly made his way over to him and his parents without breaking eye contact, his nervousness seemed to spread through his whole body. He didn't know what to do or to say. A thank you would be in order, he guessed. After all Potter had saved his life today. Trying to gather his composure, he took a deep breath and hoped that he wouldn't make a fool out of himself. Saying thank you wasn't something he was exactly experienced in.

However, when Potter finally reached them, he couldn't act immediately. He later blamed it on his struggle for the right words, but he knew that the true reason why he couldn't bring himself to say something was that smile which lit up Potter's face. There was tiredness etched into every line of his face, his skin and hair were dirty and those emerald eyes were still clouded with sorrow, but that smile spoke for all the hope and happiness which everyone here could now have for the future. And that included him and his family.

With that realisation the words which he had been searching for just a few seconds ago came easily to his mind. But just a moment later they became completely unnecessary as Potter held out his hand for him to shake. The smile was still on his face, though it now seemed to convey something more personal, almost like a secret only the two of them shared. And well, maybe that was true. After all he was sure that no one would have thought that he would stand up to Potter like he had done about an hour ago and the reason behind his actions was something only they knew about.

The sight of Potter's outstretched hand made him remember their first ride to Hogwarts when he had offered his own hand in friendship. And once again he couldn't stop to marvel at how much his life had changed in the last years. A lot of things had been lost, that was for sure, but he also knew in that moment that he had gained so much in return. Freedom, safety, trust, hope, friendship and love. It was overwhelming, but he found himself mirroring the smile directed at him, as he realised that everything he had endured had been worth it for this victory.

And with that thought in mind, Draco lifted his own hand and clasped Harry's with a firm grip.

THE END


End file.
